


With Great Power, Comes Great Problems

by Browniesarethebest



Series: Sam is God [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Deity Sam Winchester, Depressed Sam Winchester, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sam Winchester is God
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21564352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browniesarethebest/pseuds/Browniesarethebest
Summary: Figuring out how to be God is not as easy as it seems (which is not at all)
Series: Sam is God [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524263
Comments: 32
Kudos: 163





	1. Teleportation

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the love guys! This is the second part of the series, but other stuff may be added before it is finished, as I have other moments planned before he learns how to use all of his powers.

Sam knew that being God entailed all sorts of new abilities—many of which he would probably not be able to name until they manifested.

Sometimes, they showed up at very inopportune times.

* * *

Sam knew something was wrong as soon as awareness came to him.

_Chirping birds._

_Voices._

_Too bright._

_Breeze._

_Bed too hard and...itchy?_

Sam’s eyes shot open as he bolted upright, startling a pair of girls that were walking by him. A guy behind them laughed. 

“You late for class, bro?”

“What the…?” Sam muttered as he stood up from the grass. A cursory glance told him exactly where he was—he’d recognize this place anywhere.

Stanford.

How the hell did he get here?

Sam’s thoughts raced. He and Dean were supposed to be in _Iowa_ on a vampire hunt. They were still trying to figure out the location of the nest when they had gone to bed in their motel room that night. So how…?

Sam vaguely recalled a dream he had been having when he woke up on the ground. He didn’t have as many dreams (nightmares) about Stanford as he used to, but they still popped up every once in a while. This one had been a memory of Jess and him studying outside, taking advantage of the nice weather.

His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Seeing Dean’s name, Sam answered the phone with a relieved “Dean.”

“Sam, where the hell are you?”

Sam looked around again. “You might not believe me, but I’m at Stanford.”

Silence. “...What the fuck are you doing back there? And how did you get there so quickly?”

“I-I don’t know.” 

“You think it has something to do with—”

Sam interrupted before Dean could finish. “Yeah, probably.” Sam looked around again. “Look, you think, uh, you could call Cas to pick me up?”

“Why can’t you do it, bitch?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Because he always answers you, jerk. Me? He—” Sam stopped, frowning. “I-I guess he would be more likely to answer me now, wouldn’t he?” Sam pulled the phone away from his ear and looked up at the sky. “Cas?”

“Yes, Father.” Sam looked down and found Cas kneeling in front of him, head bowed. He ended the call without a word to Dean and sighed. “Please stop kneeling.”

Cas immediately stood. “Yes, Father.”

Sam sighed again. “Cas, we talked about this.”

Cas frowned. “I apologize...Sam. It is hard to remember sometimes when I see…”

Sam slumped his shoulders. “Yeah, I know. As long as you’re trying. Anyways, I was wondering if you could give me a lift back to Dean?” He glanced around the quad. “I’m...not exactly sure how I got here, and I have no idea how to get back.”

“Of course.” Cas laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and they were gone.

Dean had described what it was like flying with Cas before—just suddenly appearing in a completely different place (as well as nausea and other weird side effects)—but it was so much more than that. Had Sam stayed human, he would never have been able to perceive the vast distance they were traveling. He could see everything down to the minute detail—from the snow sitting on the peaks of the Rockies to an acorn falling from a tree in the middle of a forest. When they reached the motel in Iowa, Sam felt himself become incorporeal before crossing through the wall and into his room. They solidified behind Dean, who seemed to be massaging his temples in an attempt to stave off a headache.

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Mother—!” Dean spun around, grabbing at his heart. “What have I told you about doing that, man?”

“I apologize, Dean.” Cas grimaced.

“Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when you remember to not just pop in.” Dean stepped forward and clapped a hand on Sam’s free shoulder. “Thanks for bringing him back, though. How was your trip to Stanford?”

Sam scowled and shrugged Dean’s hand off. “Not fun. Have you figured out where the nest is?”

“Course I did. Just because you took an impromptu vacation from the case doesn’t mean I would.”

“I didn’t—” Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nevermind.” He turned to Cas and gave him a small smile. “Thank you for bringing me back. I don’t think I would have been able to do it myself.”

“Of course.” Cas replied, his expression so serious it made Sam slightly uncomfortable. “Let me know if you need anything else, and I will come.”

With that said, Cas left, leaving the brothers to stare at the spot the angel had been before Dean grinned at his brother.

“Right. Well with that done, let’s get to that nest and gank some vampire ass.”

* * *

Sam randomly teleported (it had to be teleportation since he didn’t think he had wings) in his sleep a few more times after the first incident, inconveniently leaving his brother behind to work on hunts alone until he had woken up and called Cas to take him back. 

He put his foot down, though, when he woke up in the middle of a snowstorm in Siberia.

“I think I need to learn how to control this before I end up stuck somewhere because you couldn’t come right away to bring me back.” Sam said to Cas before the angel could fly him back to Texas. “Besides, you’re probably getting pretty annoyed having to drop whatever you’re doing just to come help me.”

“I could never be annoyed by you asking for my aid. I will always come when you call, Father.” Cas glanced to the side before looking back at Sam. “I mean, Sam.”

Sam shifted, uncomfortable with the absolute devotion in Cas’s eyes. “Riiiight. It would be best for me to learn how to stop anyway. I don’t want Dean to worry about me because I’m not in the room when he wakes up. And what if I start accidentally doing it while I’m awake? What if I accidentally leave Dean while we’re fighting the latest monster?”

“Then this time you will try to go back without my help.” Cas answered. “Try to imagine where you want to be. You want to think specifically unless someone is praying to you, which you can follow to the source. Without a prayer to guide you, you must know exactly where you want to go, or you may end up hundreds of miles from your destination”

Sam nodded. “Right. Makes sense.” He closed his eyes and tried to picture the current motel room he and Dean were staying in. When he felt the wind and the cold abruptly disappear, he grinned in triumph. It quickly fell, his eyes shooting open, as someone screamed.

Instead of Dean, a middle-aged woman was standing in the doorway of the bathroom, screaming as she attempted to cover her naked body. Sam held his hands up and backed away.

“Sorry! Sorry! Wrong room! Cas!” Said angel appeared, and the woman fainted.

Sam cringed. “Could you, uh, make her forget this happened?

“Of course.” Cas crouched beside the woman and place two fingers on her temple. When Cas drew his hand back, Sam stepped forward and gently lifted the woman up. He laid her in her bed and covered her in the blanket.

“Hopefully she’ll just think she accidentally fell asleep.” Sam stepped away from the bed and looked at Cas. “You think you can take me to Dean? I don’t want to accidentally end up in someone else’s room again.”

Cas smiled and approached Sam, his hand already reaching out for the hunter’s shoulder. “Of course. However, you were very close. Your room is only two doors down.”

Sam sighed in relief as they reappeared in the correct room. Dean, who had been sitting at the table and cleaning the guns, stood up and leaned back against the table.

“So where’d you go this time?” Dean asked.

Sam glared back. “Siberia.”

Dean coughed in surprise. “Really?”

Sam’s glare deepened. “Really.” He turned to Cas. “Thank you again for bringing me back...and trying to help me learn how to get back myself.”

“Tried?” Dean’s eyebrow rose as he smirked. “Where’d you end up?”

Sam turned his head and snapped a “shut up” at Dean before turning back and smiling gratefully at Cas.

“After you finish the hunt, we can practice some more.” Cas said, smiling back.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Dean rolled his eyes and rose from the table. “All right, enough of the chick flick moment.” He reached behind and grabbed a gun and ammo from the table, bringing them in front of him and loading the weapon. “We got work to do, Sammy. Cas, you coming?”

Cas hesitated, eyes darting towards Sam before focusing back on Dean. “...If that is acceptable.”

Dean holstered the gun and strode to the door, slapping Cas on the back as he passed the angel. “Course. Let’s go gank some rawhead ass!”

Sam and Cas shared a look as they followed behind Dean. As they all climbed into the Impala, Sam mused about how they wouldn’t need to drive anymore when Sam learned to control his teleportation. 

Dean turned the ignition, and the car roared to life. Sam turned to look out the window and smiled to himself. Even when he learned, they wouldn’t stop using the Impala—it was their _home_.

Dean cranked up the music, singing along loudly and slightly out of tune. Sam rolled his eyes.

Maybe teleporting once in a while would be fine.


	2. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam suffers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys like this series! I have so many plans for it, and I am so excited to share them all with you! Enjoy this next chapter!

Sam was a big guy. It came in handy on hunts, but at other times it was a bit of a nuisance. Being tall and muscular, Sam sometimes had to hold back his strength, lest he accidentally go overboard when, say, tossing something to someone. Over the years, Sam had learned what his body was capable of and how to control it accordingly.

And then he became God.

* * *

“Sam, toss me a beer, will ya?” Dean asked as he walked out of the bathroom. Sam, who had been sitting at the table doing research on their latest hunt, pick up a beer from the six pack and tossed it towards Dean.

“Whoa!” Dean just managed to dodge as the beer whizzed past his head. The bottle hit the wall and exploded, sending beer and tiny glass fragments everywhere. Dean covered his face with his arm just in time to feel a barrage of pinpricks as the miniscule pieces of glass pelted his arm and the rest of his freshly showered body. After a moment, he lowered his arm and stared at the mess. He looked over at Sam, who seemed just as shocked.

“What the hell was that, Sam?” Dean asked.

Sam blinked, still staring at the remains of the beer. “I...I don’t know. I just tossed you the beer like you asked.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. Beads of blood were beginning to form and run slowly down his body. “I didn’t ask you to kill me with it. That thing had some serious speed.”

Sam glanced down at his hand, flexing it. “I swear I threw it like I always do.” He looked back up at Dean. “Do you think this is another God thing? Like I have strength now?”

Dean shrugged. “Probably. I can’t imagine I or any other human could possibly throw something that fast.” Dean gripped his towel and carefully stepped around the pieces of glass, heading back to the bathroom. He could feel pinpricks on the bottom of his feet as he walked. “I need to take another shower. Try not to destroy anything else while I’m in there.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped. He had already been a freak in multiple ways (having demon blood, being cast out from the family for wanting to go to college, being Lucifer’s vessel—take a pick), and now it seemed like he was becoming an even bigger one with all of these emerging powers. 

His eyes trailed back over to the puddle of beer and glass. Teleportation was one thing (who was Sam kidding—it was just as freaky), but super strength? What if he accidentally hurt someone just by hugging or hitting too hard.

What if he killed someone?

Sam would never forgive himself if he hurt an innocent.

* * *

Sam ducked, narrowly avoiding the spike from the wraith he and Dean were currently hunting. Dean was currently recovering from a topple over the old couch in the rundown house the wraith had been squatting in.

Shaking his head, Dean rejoined the fight. He attempted to stab the wraith, a small blonde in her thirties named Ashley Garrett, with a silver knife, but she dodged, spinning underneath his arm while aiming a kick at Sam. Her foot connected with his chest, but instead of moving with the impact, Sam stayed in place, and the wraith howled in pain.

Both brothers froze in shock. Using the distraction, Ashley screeched and leapt for Sam. Sam acted on instinct and punched her in the face.

Sam registered cartilage and bone caving in before Ashley went flying, hitting the wall so hard she went through it into the dilapidated kitchen. Metal screeched, bent, and tore as the wraith hit the refrigerator and then the wall behind it, leaving a person-sized hole in both as she breached the outside. She continued into the wire fence that surrounded the house, where she finally came to a stop as the fence caved in around her.

Sam and Dean sprinted outside and towards the body. They pulled the fence away.

“Holy shit.” Dean said, resisting the urge to turn away.

Sam was speechless.

Ashley Garrett was only recognizable by her blonde hair, which was slowly being stained red with blood. The rest of her body was twisted and broken. Cuts of various sizes littered her skin, with chunks missing from being ripped off when she broke through the fridge. And her face…

Dear God, her face.

Pieces of bone and brain peeked out from the crater that _used_ to be the wraith’s face. Her lower jaw was still recognizable, but everything above was caved in. One eyeball had survived, hanging loosely from what was left of the socket.

Sam was horrified.

He turned and vomited.

* * *

The ride back to the motel was silent. Dean stared forward at the road while Sam looked out the window. Neither brother had spoken as they gathered up the body and buried it. There wasn’t much to do about the damage to the house. They weren’t sure how the police were going to explain _that_ , but it would be interesting to see what they came up with.

The Impala pulled into the motel parking lot. Sam and Dean stepped out of the car and went into their room. Dean dropped his bag and sat down at the table while Sam made his way into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him. Dean stared at the door worriedly but decided to let Sam have a moment alone.

Sam started the shower. He stripped his shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. He was reaching for his pants when he caught his reflection in the mirror. Sam stopped and moved closer, staring at himself.

There was nothing different about his appearance, but he couldn’t help but think he looked like a freak. Sam was no stranger to that feeling. Even before the demon blood, Sam had been a freak. He was the odd one out in his family. He was the odd one out in school. He was the odd one out in a crowd, towering over everyone like a giant. The demon blood had only added to his freakishness. And now he was God, the ultimate odd one out.

Sam Winchester was and always would be a Freak.

The sink cracked beneath his white-knuckled grip.

Sam screamed.

He came back to himself curled up on the floor, pieces of plaster and porcelain scattered around him. Water pooled beneath him, but Sam didn’t care—he was completely focused on the pair of arms surrounding him and the soothing voice whispering reassuring nonsense in his ear. All of a sudden, he felt four years old again, crying in his brother’s arms because Daddy had yelled at him to never ask about Mommy again.

“Dean?” Sam croaked.

“You back with me, Sammy?” 

“Y-Yeah.” Sam reluctantly pulled away. “I’m good.” Sam stood, his legs shaking, and glanced around the bathroom. The mirror was shattered—as were the sink and toilet. There was a chunk of the bathtub missing. The shower curtain had been ripped off and shredded, and the rod that had been holding it was partially embedded in the wall. 

Sam spun around to look at Dean, who had also stood. “Dean, I—”

Dean held up a hand. “Save it.” He reached out and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Let’s just get out of here before the cops show up.”

The brothers quickly packed their duffels and booked it to the car. As they hopped in, Dean made a silent decision to head to Bobby’s. Sam needed somewhere solid to stay for the foreseeable future—and somewhere to safely practice control of his newfound strength. 

“Don’t you worry, Sammy.” Dean assured, glancing at his sullen brother before looking back at the road. “We’ll figure this out. We always do.”

Sam stared out the window.

* * *

Bobby heard the Impala drive up and walked outside to greet them. “Wasn’t expecting you boys so soon.”

Dean grinned as he slammed the door shut. “Hey, Bobby.”

Sam was slower to emerge. He tried to gently close the car door, but when it didn’t close all the way, he tried to reopen it and ended up ripping the door handle off.

“I’ll fix that.” Dean immediately said as Bobby’s brows rose.

“I’m guessing this is why you came?” Bobby asked.

“We’ve been hunting a lot since Stull Cemetery.” Dean said, slinging an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “We haven’t taken the time to sit down and-and talk this out.”

Sam pulled away and stared at Dean incredulously. “Talk this out?” He huffed out a sarcastic laugh. “This is coming from the guy who’s always saying ‘no chick flick moments’.”

“Yeah, well—” Dean grimaced. “This is pretty far above our usual stuff, and that’s saying something.”

Sam sneered. “Well, I’m _so_ sorry to always be inconveniencing you, Dean. Sorry you have a freak for a brother!” He stalked off.

“Sam!” Dean made to go after his brother but was stopped by Bobby.

“Let him be.”

“Bobby—”

“He needs to be alone right now. In the meantime, why don’t you catch me up?” Bobby glanced at the handle Sam had dropped when he left. “I’m guessing he’s developed superstrength now?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” He paused. “He killed a wraith by punching it in the face.”

Bobby’s brows rose. “Damn.”

Dean nodded again, staring in the direction Sam had gone. “Yeah. It was...yeah.”

Bobby clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder and led him towards the house. “Well, I wanna hear all about it.”

* * *

Sam was sitting on a rusting car as he stared up at the sky, a beautiful combination of purples and pinks and oranges as the sun set. He heard a flap of wings and felt a presence settle beside him.

“Did Dean call you?” Sam asked.

“Yes.” Cas answered. He spoke before Sam could say anything. “And do not worry about me ‘dropping' what I was 'doing’. Even if I had been busy, the other angels would encourage me to go.” Cas couldn’t help but smirk. “Although, they are...quite jealous it is I you call for help.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah? Well, you were the one to help us stop the Apocalypse, and you were the one to bring Dean back from Hell.” Sam turned towards Cas and smiled. “You’re our friend, Cas.”

Cas smiled back. “I am honored to hold the title.”

Sam’s smile fell as he looked back at the sky and sighed. “You know, all my life I wanted to be normal. I even got away and tried for a few years.” Sam’s smile turned sardonic. “Obviously, that didn’t work out.” Sam swallowed, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I am and always will be a freak. I mean—” Sam laughed sarcastically and gestured between the two of them. “Look at me! Right when I thought I couldn’t get any worse than ‘The Boy With the Demon Blood’—” Castiel winced, but Sam either didn’t notice or didn’t care since he kept going. “—I’m God. G-O-D, _God_.”

“F—Sam—”

“And now I have all of the angels thinking I’m their dad, and it’s _weird_. Even you can’t help but call me ‘Father’ sometimes!” Sam brought his fist down on the car, denting the hood. Sam yelled out in exasperation. “And that! I killed a wraith by _punching it in the face_. I sent it flying out of the house, Cas. Through _walls_. I almost killed—or at least seriously maimed—Dean when I threw him a beer.” Sam ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I just...I don’t know if I can do this. This is too much, even for me.”

“Sam.” Cas laid a hand on Sam’s arm. “I know this is difficult, but you will be great. You may be God, but you are also Sam Winchester. You overcame Lucifer—a feat no human has ever accomplished—to stop the Apocalypse. If anyone can learn to be God, it is you.” Cas gently smiled. “And I will be happy to help you along the way. As I said before, it is an honor to be considered your friend, and I am glad to be of assistance to you.”

Sam was silent for a moment before the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I bet this has really increased your status in Heaven.”

Cas’s eyes shined. “It has. It is quite...pleasing.”

Sam barked out a laugh, and the two went back to looking at the sky in companionable silence. Sam still wasn’t sure if he could do this—be _God_ —but at least someone believed in him. It was a nice feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts or ask questions at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	3. Creation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes a friend (literally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a hard time writing before I was struck with great inspiration and finished in basically one sitting. You're welcome.

A long time ago, before man was even a thought in God’s mind, God created the Earth. He created grass and trees and oceans and lakes. He created animals and fruit and sand and rain. He created many things and settled them on Earth, a home for his things and a playground for his angels. God took a look at his creations and felt satisfied—fulfilled.

For what was God without Creation?

* * *

Sam had been feeling...strange lately.

He couldn’t exactly describe it any better than strange. If he had been asked, he would have said he felt a buzzing under his skin, but that wasn’t quite correct. He also felt numb. He felt both painfully empty and filled to the brim, like he would implode or explode at any second (he wasn’t sure which one, though). He was itchy and cold and hot and tired and wired.

He didn’t dare tell Dean, but he knew his brother had noticed something was off with Sam. Thankfully, Dean didn’t ask. Sam wasn’t sure what he would say if he had.

And the _thoughts_. Any stray thought that went through Sam’s mind was suddenly amplified, no matter how fleeting it originally was. He couldn’t stop _thinking_. He could barely focus when Dean spoke to him or when he was researching or even when he was just trying to give his order to the waitress at the latest diner he and Dean were at.

What was wrong with him?

The answer came one night while Sam was trying to wrestle control back of his brain. They had just finished a salt-n-burn (at an amusement park of all places) a few hours earlier and were relaxing for the night before hitting the road the next morning. Dean was flipping through channels, uninterested in the limited channels the motel provided. A picture of a dog flashed on the screen before the channel was changed, and Sam was suddenly overwhelmed by his on-and-off desire to get a dog.

But what kind of dog would he like? He’d like a bigger dog—he was so big that he was afraid he’d accidentally crush any of the small breeds—with pointed, no, floppy ears. His fur would be super soft and golden (like Bones did), and he’d have big brown eyes that Sam would probably never be able to say no to. The dog would have that unconditional love that all dogs seemed to have. He’d love to go on runs with Sam in the morning, and he’d be super friendly with everyone...except maybe monsters.

And...And though it was impossible, Sam would like a dog that was more durable than a normal one, so he wouldn’t have to be as careful around it with his God strength. A more durable dog would be able to protect itself better from any monsters that may come after them, so that was a bonus. Maybe—

“Uh, Sam?”

Sam blinked and looked over at Dean, who was staring at something at the foot of Sam’s bed. Sam turned back and found a dog sitting there, smiling at him with its tongue lolling out and tail wagging.

The dog was just as Sam had imagined.

“I...” What was Sam supposed to say?

Before Sam could find anything to say, four angels appeared in their motel room. The dog barked and jumped onto the bed, standing in front of Sam as if to protect him.

Three of the angels, two of which were archangels and the third a seraph, stared at the dog in awe. The fourth angel, Gabriel, snorted.

“Seriously, Sam-a-lam? This is a little too predictable, even for you.”

The dog turned its attention toward Gabriel and snarled. Without thinking, Sam laid a hand on the dog’s head and petted it gently. “It’s okay. They’re not going to hurt me.”

The dog relaxed some and turned to lick at Sam’s face. However, it did not move from its protective stance.

Raphael stepped forward, examining the dog. “It is very similar to the canines that humans have bred into submission.”

“Far more durable however,” Michael stated as he, too, came closer. His eyes roamed over the dog. “A good companion for Father, considering the monsters he continues to hunt.” Michael’s opinion on _that_ could clearly be heard in his tone.

“What is happening?” Dean asked.

Castiel tore his gaze away from the dog to look at Dean. “Father has Created for the first time in thousands of years. It is not a sight to be missed. We were just only able to convince the others not to come as well.”

It was around this time that Sam realized the turmoil in his body had ceased for the first time in days. He glanced at the dog (he _so_ needed to come up with a name soon) and moved so that it was now licking his hand. Looking back at the angels, he spoke warily. “Is that why I’ve been feeling so weird the past few days?”

Silence reigned before Michael stepped closer to Sam. “You never spoke much about your origins, Father, but we do know that you were made to Create. It is your purpose.”

Sam looked back at the dog (Riot? Apollo? No…). “I didn’t...I didn’t even _mean_ to make him. Are you telling me I’m going to have to keep making things in order to be able to think straight? People are going to notice a sudden influx of new species with no evolutionary explanation for their existence.”

“You should be good for a while.” Gabriel smirked and snapped, a lollipop stick appearing between his teeth. “As for Creating new things, you should be able to hold back that urge by just making everyday things. Food, clothes, whatever you want. It won’t stave off that urge forever, but it’s the only alternative.”

Sam was nodding along as he absentmindedly ran his hand through the dog’s fur. “Makes sense.”

Dean finally spoke up. “Does it?”

“Just because your tiny ape mind can’t wrap around a simple concept, doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense, Deano.” Gabriel crunched down on his lollipop and snapped again. The old stick disappeared and was replaced by a new one.

“You—” Dean lunged forward but was held back by Cas.

Sam sighed. “Dean, let it go.”

Dean glared but relented. When Cas let go of him, he broached the topic Sam was hoping to avoid. “Look, this is great and all—” Sam (and he was sure everyone else) distinctly heard Dean mutter a “not” before continuing, “—but Sam, where are we gonna put him?”

Sam’s grip tightened on the dog (Praestes? Ugh, no.). Sensing Sam’s distress, the dog began to growl, aiming it at Dean.

“We spend hours on end in a car, and when we’re not in the car, we’re in some crappy motel room. That ain’t a life for a dog, Sam.”

Sam knew Dean was right, but what could he do? He couldn’t just send (Comet?) the dog out to fend for itself. He created (Created?) it. He had a responsibility to the dog.

“I think I have a solution to that.” Everyone’s heads snapped toward Gabriel, who was still idly sucking on his lollipop as he smirked. “We can’t bring it to Heaven—it’s not allowed to go there without dying, and I don’t think Sambino would like that—and we can’t just release it into the wild. Sam wouldn’t like that either. Luckily for you boys, I happen to own several homes throughout Earth. He could easily stay in one of them, and I can bring him to visit anytime you want.”

“Gabriel, I don’t think—”

“Shut up, Raphael,” Gabriel said, staring into Sam’s eyes. “It’s F-Sam’s decision, not yours.”

Sam stared back, scrutinizing the archangel. He searched for any sign that this was a new trick—Sam wouldn’t put it past the Trickster. Gabriel had an air of arrogance around him as the others argued, but Sam looked deeper and, with a start, realized that the archangel actually seemed _vulnerable_.

Sam had to look past the Trickster/Gabriel he knew of the past. Ignoring everything he knew and believed, Sam realized that this being was a lost son, desperately trying to vie for his Father’s love while trying to keep anyone from realizing it.

And would it be so bad? Depending on what type of home Gabriel chose, his dog (Bullet?) could have a yard to run in, space to relax, and stability. It would be much better than what Sam could provide. The thought hurt, but Sam wanted what was best for the dog, and right now that wasn’t him. Gabriel was even offering to bring the dog whenever Sam wanted to see it. It was far more than Sam could ask for.

However, Sam vowed to find a more permanent home for the three of them (and maybe Cas).

“You’ve got a deal.” Whatever argument the angels were having (Sam really wasn’t paying attention) was cut off, and Gabriel’s smirk grew, but Sam could see the relief and happiness in the archangel’s eyes too.

“Great!” Gabriel clapped. “I’ve got a great place in Norway. Forest, large field, plenty of space in the cabin to play…”

“That sounds great. Thank you,” Sam replied.

Gabriel blinked. “You’re welcome.” He shifted awkwardly. “Before I take him, though, you should probably name him.”

“Yes, this newest species needs a name,” Michael said, nodding.

Gabriel side-eyed him. “Not what I meant. He looks like a Golden Retriever, so let’s just say he’s a subset of that.” He looked back at Sam. “So, what kind of names are you thinking of?”

Sam’s mind raced with possibilities.

“Batman.”

Sam sighed. “No, Dean.”

“Styx.”

“No, Dean.”

“Zeppelin.”

“ _No._ ”

“How about—”

“I’m gonna call him ‘Rogue’.”

Dean’s face scrunched up. “Like the chick from X-Men?”

Sam blinked. “What? No. It just...feels right.”

“Rogue it is!” Gabriel interrupted and made his way over to the newly dubbed ‘Rogue’. “Start making goodbyes. Family reunions really aren’t my thing, and I’m just about ready to jump out of my skin at this point.”

Sam nodded, sad that he already had to say goodbye, but it was for the best. The longer Rogue was around, the harder it was for Sam to let him go. He ran his hand over Rogue’s fur one more time and smiled. The dog smiled back and licked Sam’s cheek.

Sam glanced up at Gabriel. “Any time I want?”

Gabriel’s eyes softened. “Any time you want.”

“Big field and everything?”

“Big field and everything.”

Sam looked back at the dog. “You’re going to a good place, Rogue, but don’t worry. I’ll see you soon.”

Rogue let out a bark as if to say “You better!” before Gabriel picked up the dog and disappeared.

Silence.

“...Fath—”

“Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on Lucifer?” Sam asked without looking at Michael.

Michael hesitated before bowing his head. “Of course, Father. Come, Raphael. Castiel.”

“Cas can stay,” Dean said.

Michael pushed down his anger at the insolence of this pathetic ape. It would not be beneficial to make Father angry. “Yes, of course. Raphael?”

With that, the two archangels flew off, leaving the three men alone. Sam continued to stare at the spot where Rogue had been.

“...I gotta say, this was way more entertaining than anything that was on TV.”

“ _Dean._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts or talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send prompts or talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com!


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